


If You Draw For Your Cat A Circle

by AuthorMontresor



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Genre: Cat puns and a little mystery, Catra is getting everything she wants, Catradora kiss, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, I repeat NOT an AU, Keep attention to DETAILS in this one, Please handle with caution: feels inside - we accept no returns, Pushing for the Catradora ideal there, Scorpia being Scorpia, Sweet, Sweetness now drama later explainations last, Theme Song: 'Main Theme Orchestral' - Parasite Eve OST, This one is like a golden sweet candy with a tiny venomous core, Yet more stealth cat puns, catradora, not an au, really really sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-25 16:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorMontresor/pseuds/AuthorMontresor
Summary: Life is sweet. Catra is now Force Admiral of the Horde, she has the respect she deserves, and her favourite Force Captain and steadfast opponent of the Rebellion, Adora, is always at her side.All seems good, but there's a catch. Catra is doing her level best to ignore it.Not an AU.





	1. Chapter 1

_Draw for your cat a circle  
_

_and see what she quickly does..._

* * *

 

Someone is scratching her left ear.

Catra by now is used to this, and she tries to hide her smile. The scratching intensifies, until she cannot hold it anymore, and she smiles, and lets out a low purring sound as her eyes open.

"Good morning, Force Admiral."

She's never going to get tired of Adora, though. Not in a million years. She might try, but she will always fail.

Adora sits next to her, in her usual white and red and grey uniform, the single note of gold the medal upon her breast, identifying her as Force Captain. As _Catra_ 's Force Captain. Just the place she's supposed to be.

"Is it 'good morning' enough, though?" Catra asks, stretching both legs at the same time, and puts Adora's hand back where it belongs, behind her ear, scratching away. "I don't remember telling you to stop."

Adora chuckles, and it's a tinkering of bells, it's the humming of a well-oiled tank, it's the unsheathing of knifes as they glitter under the moon, it's the sound of everything falling into place.

"I can't stay here scratching your ears all day," Adora replies, but she moves her hand from her left ear to the right one, and Catra's leg twitches and she hums, "The Rebellion is not going to get crushed by itself."

"Yes, well... that's _your_ job Force Captain," Catra replies with a playfully stern tone, before dragging her even closer. To her sharp senses, the scent of Adora is distinctive. Sweat and exhaust, a faint hint of burnt metal, and the natural tanginess of her skin, all together. All her life is in that scent, and all of Catra as well. " _My job_ is to enjoy the attentions of my subordinates," Catra says, lying now on her back. A strand of blonde hair is hanging loose, and she draws it back into place. "My amazing, faithful subordinates," Catra adds, her finger lingering against Adora's cheek.

That cheek turns pink, and red now, like an engine revving up, and Adora hums just like a powerful tank, though she does not withdraw. She never withdraws from her touch.

"Uhm, I... I guess?"

 She's just so precious. One of these days... but Catra has her responsibilities, in the end, and no matter how much she would like to, she can't spend her entire life coiled on her bed, her favourite Force Captainscratching her ears.

No matter how much she'd like to.

Therefore, she slowly finishes her stretching and stands up, swinging her legs.

It's time to get serious.

"Report, Force Captain?"

Adora's face sets into a focused, stern expression. She's even more striking this way. Catra still has to find out if Adora is silk hiding steel, or steel with a silk core.

"Yes. We captured two more settlements in the last week. The siege of Mystacor is well underway, and I am positive Castaspella is about to accept our conditions, if only we were to apply a little more pressure."

Catra grins.

She likes applying _pressure_. One of the things she's best at, really.

"What do you think, is my presence necessary?" She asks Adora.

"I don't think so. We can deal with it on my own."

"Maybe I will come nonetheless. I need a bit of exercise. I don't want to get rusty!"

A shadow passes upon Adora's face.

"I just don't want you to... get hurt. Or risk to. Mystacor is well-defended. One can never know..."

"Hey, Adora." Catra sets her hand on her shoulder, and Adora's large beautiful blue eyes open in surprise. "I can take care of myself." Catra flicks the tip of her nose. "And it's not like you can _stop_ me."

Adora chuckles.

"I guess not. Just... if you come please pay attention." For a moment, the Force Captain disappears, and underneath, Adora looks at her, worry in those deep blue eyes. "I don't want to risk losing you."

Adora, bold, holds her left hand in hers. Catra hesitates for a moment.

_She really... she truly..._

"What about going in together, then?" Catra asks in the end. "Just like old times. Me and you, against the universe."

"Yes!" Adora cries out, before a blush spreads upon her features. Her eyes shy away, looking at the patterns on the floor. "I mean... if you... want to... if you think... that can be... useful..."

"Your Force Admiral demands it," Catra says in the end, winking. "Now, it's better if we take a look at the troops. Take me there."

 

Surveying _her_ troops. The troops obeying _her_ orders. In the wake of Shadow Weaver, she has dispensed orders and punishments, promotions and rewards. All in all, a tighter, more motivated force. Catra knows how people _tick_ , but Adora knows how to cover forced efficiency in a pretty dress and how to improve morale.

She's a born leader, just like her.

It's... juvenile, really, but as Adora, her Force Captain, speaks at the troops, Catra sees her tail act seemingly on its own, and coiling softly around Adora's ankle. Catra's expression does not change. On the outside, she looks neutral.

And Adora does a good enough job at hiding her embarrassment.

As the troops break ranks and in front of them, the square empties, Adora tosses her a glare, her face now free to turn red. Really, is different to take it apart from her jacket.

"Did you _have_ to do that? In front of the army? If they had seen..."

Catra flicks her tail away, a bored expression on her face.

"What's you point? You did a good job, and anyway..."

It's a flash, but suddenly Adora is pushed against the wall and Catra is so very, very close, and she can smell her scent, sweat, tangy and burnt metal, and maybe a hint of something else, fear and shock and something else, something buried beneath it all, something that Catra wants to finds out.

And Adora's breath breaks, and she tries to free herself, but Catra holds her there, and the redness spreads down to her neck.

"... and it's not like they do not _know_. You are my Force Captain. You are _mine_."

Catra's tail goes up to tickle Adora's chin.

"Does that come as a surprise?"

"N-no," Adora answers, looking away, but it's a moment, and her eyes are back. She looks like she wants to say something, and she opens her mouth, an-

"Force Admiral?"

Catra whipped her head to the side. Scorpia just appeared, a set expression on her face.

"What?" Catra hissed, not letting go. For a moment, Scorpia's eyes seemed to linger on Catra, but her gaze quickly turned sideways.

"It's... Lord Hordak, Admiral. He demanded a meeting with you."

Catra licked her lips.

"So be it," she said, after only hesitating a moment.

 

 

Catra is back. Hordak and his _meetings_. One of these days... she only needs to... something makes her ears flick to the side, and back. She would recognize that voice among a million.

Catra, making as much noise on metal as she would on foam, walks towards the source of the noise. It's the training room. So many memories, most of them bitter. Adora is shouting orders at a group of cadets.

"Remember: Princesses cannot feel compassion or love! They will betray you at the first whim! Do not trust them, because you cannot!"

One of the kids holds his arms over his chest, where a burnt mark is still smoking.

"I'm sorry. I just..."

Adora crouches in front of him, a hand upon the burnt mark.

"I know, Jacob, I know." Catra tilts her head, like this way she could see _more_ of Adora. Understand her more. She always wants to perceive more of her. Know her more, feel her more. Need her more. "But you can't put your life in the hands of those who do not respect it. Princesses are capricious. Trust one, and you don't know where you might end up."

Slowly, Catra nods, alone in the darkness.

The kid nods as well, as if in an echo. A few tears glisten at the sides of his eyes, but it is just a moment. He balls his fists, and looks up at Adora.

"Let me try again."

"That's the spirit!" Adora pats him on the shoulder, and is about to restart the simulation, when Catra slinks out of the shadows.

The group freezes at her sight. It's exceedingly amusing. She ought to do it more often, but use this trick too much, and it grows dull. Today she feels special, though.

"F-Force Admiral," the kid with the burnt mark bows, followed by all, except for Adora, who simply nods.

She's _never_ growing bored of this.

"Someone's been naughty," Catra comments, a grin dancing upon her lips. The kid, Jacob, visibly shudders. "Hey, kid, it's okay." Catra pats him on the head. "It's not like anything bad is going to happen."

Then she grabs him, and the kid is thrown skyways. His cry of surprise echoes in the room. A brief fly, and Catra is right there below him, catching him by the jacket just before he smashes into the floor.

"See?" Catra puts him back, gently. "Never trust anybody." Then she moves in closer to _her_ Force Captain, and hugs her at the waist. "Except for her. Adora, you can trust."

"T-thank you, Admiral," Adora replies, still visibly blushing. Catra would chastise her, but it's too damn funny. And she needs to vent a little steam.

"Don't trust _me_ , though." Catra whispers. Adora's eyes open in surprise, and she whips her head away just in time to avoid being caught in one of Catra's wipes.

She somersaults back and stands up, her eyes still wide, her breath labored.

"C-Captain?"

"What?" Catra says, shrugging. "A good lessons for the kids. How about a little sparring? Who knows, they might learn something."

"I-In front of them?"

As an answer, Catra just jumps forward, her talons aiming for her chest. Adora sighs, and in a moment she's back into battle mode. She rolls away, unsheathes her baton, and swipes left just as Catra gets out of range. Catra has no need for the simulation. She jumps into the shadows, and Adora looks up and about, trying to pinpoint her location.

"Your enemy is your enemy. No matter what they might have said, no matter what they might have done," Catra's voice whispers ominously from the ceiling, unseen, invisible.

Adora's baton crackles with green energy.

She turns just in time to par Catra's next kick, but Catra jumps back into a corner, and next time she comes out, Adora cannot stop her: Adora is pushed against the floor, and Catra sits on her chest, victorious, her tail coiled around Adora's arm.

"Trust only your instincts," she concludes.

"Can you get down, Admiral?" Adora asks.

"It's comfy here. I might just get sleepy..." Catra grins.

"Please don't," Adora replies, red coming back to cover her face.

Catra laughs, and stands.

"Work first? So be it. I expect to see you when you're finished with the cadets, Force Captain."

"Of course," Adora replies, turning back towards the wall, trying to hide her red face from the kids and Catra at the same time.

Catra's grin widens as she walks back towards her quarters. This is jus-

"Catra?"

Oh, not this again.

" _What now?_ "

Scorpia looked uncomfortable, standing there in a corner, brushing her pincers against each other. Shaky, and uncertain, and worried.

"It's... you have to review the troops, Captain. I thought I'd... remind you."

Catra blinked.

"But I just..."

 _Oh_.

She sighed.

"Very well. Let's get these troops reviewed. It's not going to take long, right?"

 

 

Catra knows her job as Captain Captain is not simply to tease Adora and have her back scratched, but she wouldn't mind if it'd be. These... distractions are getting worse. If only Hordak would calm down for a while. The Rebellion has taken so many hard blows as of late - all thanks to her and Adora - he could... go on vacation for a while? Get some rest? He and his stupid Imp pet might just let her leave her alone for a while! Etheria wasn't built in a day.

Walking down the open hallways of the Fright Zone, her gaze is attracted by one of the lingering silver moons in the sky. It's just a matter of time, after all. All those pesky Princesses and their small kingdoms would fall one after the other, and then... and then there would be a lot of time to get her belly rubbed, she decides.

A pleasant grin ripples her lip as her hand goes down to brush against her bellybutton.

She _does_ like to get her belly rubbed. Adora has this trick with her knuckles that... she shivers. Who knows what Adora is doing right now? Maybe she can have her favourite Force Captain all to herself.

And even if she's occupied, she can _order_ her to. Ha! The perks of being Force Admiral.

She finds Adora in her quarters. These days, her room is a mess. Her Force Captain has covered every wall, the ceiling and every free surface with maps, graphs, reports, notes. She is nose-deep into a book and writes yet more notes with her hand. She has not heard her coming, but Adora is so concentrated Catra might as well blew the door up with a tank and Adora would probably have replied ' _bless you'_!

She does react when Catra jumps atop her notes, though.

"Aaah-" Adora's eyes turn up. "...aahdmiral? My notes! What are you doing here?"

"I'm checking out on my Force Captain," Catra replies, her tail grazing Adora's chin. "Or... I want my belly rubs. Still unsure."

"Your belly rubs? C-can it wait, Captain? I am in the middle of something here, I..."

"Adora, relax," Catra sighs and slinks down to rest on her midriff. Adora is slightly larger than her, so it works. It simply works. "The night is for us.It's just the two of us here. Just like it has always been. Do you remember? No matter what..."

"...we look out for each other, yes." Adora relaxes, and her hand comes down to rest atop her head. Catra's ears flick, pleased. "I did not forget."

"Good," Catra replies. "Just checking." A grins spreads over her face, and she lets herself fall, exposing her belly. "Scratching time. Now."

Adora chuckles, but obeys. Just like a good Force Captain would.

Just like a good-

Catra's line of thought is interrupted as Adora's fingers find her belly. She groans and stretches and slithers and waves her arms as Adora plays her like a lyre. Seriously... where did she learn that?

"I have news, Catra," Adora says. Her voice is a whisper and conspiratorial. Catra's ears, lying in ecstasy down her head, perk up. "There's a new ball coming."

"Oh?" This is unexpected. "Miss Ice Cream Princess decided to turn her back against the losing cause? The siege must be going _well_."

Adora laughs, softly.

"Something like that, yes. A gesture of goodwill. She would like to host another celebration. Just for the Horde."

"Don't tell me _Hordak_ is coming!" Catra jumps up, her hands holding Adora's shoulders.

"No. He has no need for it. But given I was the one who Frosta called... I asked if you could come as well. As a... representative, you know."

Catra whistles.

"Oooh, I see. Any excuse is good to see me in a tuxedo."

"It's not like that," Adora replies, turning her red face, confirming, yes, it is just like that. Catra chortles at her reaction.

"And so... what did you tell Ice Cream Princess?"

"Well..." Adora purses her lips, inching closer and closer, stars in her eyes. "I told her..."

"Sorry, Admiral. This is urgent. S-sorry."

" _What!_ " Catra jumped up, unsheathing her talons. Scorpia took a step back, shaken.

"I-I'm sorry. I-It's Lord Hordak once more, Admiral."

"Tell him I'm busy!"

"You already missed your last meeting! I-I can risk displeasing him, Catra! But you..."

Catra growled. Just when...

"I hope it's quick! I have something better to do than to listen to his paranoia!"

But she obeyed, and followed Scorpia as she escorted her. She ignored the worried look on Scorpia's face.

 

 

A few days passed bay - no Hordak or Scorpia thankfully - and the ball, at last! Catra could purr.

One arm tied around her favourite Force Captain, she steps in. It was not quite like in front of the cadets, but their entrance still echoes in the whispers and the thick silence falling into the ice citadel.

Catra has opted for her old tuxedo. A black and red one, this time. Fitting for her new stature. Adora is dressed in black and blue, highlighting her eyes. Adora picked up a white dress at first, but Catra had turned it down. _White_ just was not her color.

"From the Horde, Force Admiral Catra and Force Captain Adora!" The valet announces.

Catra grins. This would _never_ get old.

"Reverenced hostess," Adora begins when they reach Ice Cream Princess' dais, but Catra stops her and draws her closer, interrupting Adora.

"Hey, kiddo. Thanks for the invitation. Nice party."

Frosta's face flashes red, but she restrains herself. It feels _so_ good to trash the kid a little, take her down a peg. Turnabout is fair play, after all. Even if Catra has never been big on fair.

"I... hope you will find the night to your liking. May this be an occasion to strengthen our relations," the Princess says in the end. "I gather you did not bring heat bombs with you this time?" She inquires, raising her eyebrow.

"Hey, the only heat bomb I need I am holding at the waist," Catra replies, drawing Adora even closer. She does flash red just like Frosta, though it is with embarrassment.

"C-Catra!" Adora protests when they are far enough from the Princess. "That was... that was... you can't do anything you want!"

"Stop me," Catra replies, holding Adora by the wrists. She's so close. She smells that scent of tangy burnt metal. The ball has yet to properly start, but Catra's beating heart was music enough. "Come on. Just try and stop me."

Catra draws Adora into a slow waltz. They dance just like they fight, following and inspiring each other. The crowd recedes away, leaving them a wide enough berth to dance as they pleased, like twin stars, held together by the ever-tightening embrace of gravity and destiny.

"This is not the right place to stop you," Adora replies. She is still embarrassed, but Catra's recent actions stokes her fire. She smirks, she lets Catra lead, but she puts a sway in her hips that was not there before.

"I'd still like to see you try, though."

Catra dances. The room is a forgotten blur. She only cares about those blue eyes.

"What am I going to do with you," Adora sighs, resting her head upon her neck.

Catra slows down.

"Nothing different than what you always did," she replies. She lets her own head fall against Adora. "Just look out for me."

Catra feels Adora's lips curl into a smile against her neck.

"And you look out for me."

Catra hesitates for a moment. For a moment, her grip on Adora's hands tightens.

But it is just gone in an instant.

Her features distend.

"It's a promise," she states.

Not far away, Scorpia brushed pincer against pincer, dressed in her usual Force Captain garb, so out of place at the ball. She did not know what to do! She glanced once more at the letters and reports in her pincers. These needed Catra's signature, the army needed Catra's orders, and Hordak's mood needed to be soothed. Catra had done just a tiny fraction of what her job required, and every day less and less. It was like her friend was disappearing. Scorpia had not even _seen_ her for days!

But...

Scorpia did not know what to do. She could not just go there and confront her superior, not when she was like this.

Not when _her friend_ was in such fetters.

"Oh... oh dear," she groaned, not a solution in sight. "This is getting out of hand."

* * *

_Draw for your cat a circle  
_

_and see what she quickly does:_

_she's going to jump inside_

_and never will want to get out._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it smells like Adora, it cuddles like Adora, it confesses like Adora, and it kisses like Adora, is probably Adora, right?  
> Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it extra evil, just for you. Happy reading.

Winter nights might be long, but for Catra they are too short.

For it is only by night that she can truly appreciate Adora. She's laying together with Catra on her bed in her Force Admiral quarters.

Shadow Weaver was never one for material comforts. Her only joy would be that runestone and the power it could provide for her.

Catra has no need for power.

Well, a bit.

Power enough to have everything she wants. Other than that... Hordak can deal with the red tape.

She's content like this. The crackling fire in her hearth, the soft scent of burning wood to cover the smell of oil and machinery into a veneer of comfort, and most important of all, most important of everything, Adora is right next to her.

She perceives Adora in waves.

The heat of her nimble, strong body, cuddled against her own, her arms holding them together and closer and closer, until their breaths mingle and Catra cannot understand where her own ends and where Adora begins, and this is a wonderful thing.

Adora's hair. Catra loves to play with them. For some reason Adora's hair have the habit of getting loose, especially when Catra is around, and especially when Catra feels the need to play with Adora smooth hair. She puts them behind her ear, like she's adorning the perfect canvas that is her face.

Adora's eyes. Catra has no need for the blue sky outside of the Fright Zone, both because it reminds her bad tidings, and both because she has all the sky she can desire already here. She just has to look into Adora's eyes and Catra is flying, falling, floating and just alive, more alive than she is at any moment but their sparring sessions.

Adora's lips.

And Catra stops there, for Adora snuggles even closer, and she puts her warm hand against Catra's cheek, and draws her nearer.

"Catra," she says.

"Hey, Adora." Catra replies, her tail tracing arabesques in the air. She's _never_ going to tire of saying that. Because Adora is here, and is _hers_.

"Are you happy?"

It is not a question Catra would expect. She recoils for a moment, out of habit, out of instinct, out of the deep dark signs Shadow Weaver has left under her skin, wriggling like a hissing snake.

"Do I not look happy to you?" Catra almost growls. It's not the tone she would like to use.

But it is the safest.

And Adora would understand.

Adora purses her lips. Any other person would have reacted badly to this. Any other person would have shifted her eyes away and would have mumbled excuses.

Adora is not any other person.

The hand upon her cheek moves. Adora's thumb brushes against Catra's cheek, and she lets Adora do so because she's Adora, and because it is her hand, and because she can trust Adora. Adora never betrayed her. Adora would never betray her.

Adora is _hers_.

"It's not that," Adora asks once again, "it's not that. I just wonder if you are happy _enough_."

Catra falls into the sky.

She's not sure how to answer. She could discuss sparring for hours, why is she at a loss of words now?

There's no answer written in the sky.

Catra has no idea where to look.

Adora draws her nearer.

"Because I am happy," Adora whispers.

Catra's body is motionless.

The only sound, Adora's breath.

And the rhythmic echo of Catra's heartbeat, as if it got lost in the clouds, like a far-away thunder.

 _Boo-boom boo-boom boo-boom_.

"I cannot wish for anything else, for anything more," Adora says. Is the reflection of the fires upon her brow or is she blushing? Catra's heart really hopes she is blushing. "I never wanted for you to feel like you were second best," Adora confesses. For a moment a flash of pain passes through Catra, but it's gone.

It's gone soon enough, and no consequences come of it.

"I am trying... I am really trying to make it all up to you. Thank you for... for everything. For all you have done for me."

 ** _Boo-boom boo-boom boo-boom_**.

The thunder seems to be getting closer.

Odd.

It's probably also about to rain.

Catra already feels a few drops upon her cheek.

Adora dries it away.

"I cannot imagine of any place I would rather be than at your side. Here, with you. I want to stay with you forever. Catra."

Adora's lips linger even closer.

Is it raining? Is it raining already?

Is it raining at last, and is Catra finding herself in the middle of the storm she has always feared?

The fruit is ready for plucking.

Catra seems to hesitate for a moment. It's the hesitation of the thief in the temple, having set her eyes upon the dais, covered with jewels and diamond, and has maybe one last spark of conscience.

One last sparkle, in the surrounding dark.

It flashes-

And it is gone.

"Kiss me," Catra whispers against those lips, and her Force Captain, her Adora obeys, and those lips are so soft and warm and firm and is this what she has always wanted and it does not matter it does not matter anymore because she's here, and whatever she might have imagined and hoped and feared is ash in the wind compared to breathing Adora's breath, and all seems to tumble down into a vertigo, into a spell of conjoining, of loss and discovery and of death and rebirth.

Adora withdraws her lips, but not before saying with her breath: _Catra_.

And Catra blinks, and she does not know what to say.

She only knows it is raining.

But it is fine, it is fine.

They are going to look out for each other.

It is fine.

Everything is fine.

Catra holds onto Adora. Her arms straggle her in.

Adora smiles. Catra knows she smiles because she can feel her curving lips against her forehead.

Adora slowly kisses her eyes close.

And the rain stops.

The rain stops, and Catra and Adora are together, and Catra is shaking, for the storm is passing, the storm is passing at last, and who knows what will happen afterward, if there will be clear days ahead.

It does not matter, because that's future Catra's problem.

Catra is home.

At last.

"Thank you," Adora whispers.

 

 

Scorpia tried. She really, really tried.

Problem was, back home she consistently got bad marks at Princess school.

Things somewhat improved once she joined the Horde. Promoted to Force Captain in her prime: disciplined, steadfast and honourable, the picture perfect of how a Horde official could be.

Paperwork still eluded her.

"Oh, skittering pedipalps," Scorpia bemoaned once again, leaving yet one thin mark on her claws as she bit down on them.

 _How many troops_?

No idea. She had tried to _count_ them, but the number elided her. She always reached something like two hundred, and then she had to start over from the start. Also there was the problem of gathering all of them in one place. And there was always that one guy who needed to go to the bathroom, or who moved, or who distracted her, or who asked to see her doodles, and Scorpia always lost count.

After the fourth time she had given up.

There must be a better way to do it, and she had tried to have soldiers count themselves, but she always came up with a different total.

Catra would have known what to do.

 _Which troop was equipped with which equipment_?

She had counted rifles and tanks and shock batons... but what else was there? Was she supposed to change them over? Wasn't that like playing dress-up, a bit like a Princess would do?

 _Making sure each piece was up to standard, matched by the right cartridge and by the curren_ -

"Skittering pedipalps," Scorpia swore once again. She could allow herself some bad manners here in the Horde. If her family had heard her say such things back home... "I don't know where to begin!"

All she had managed to earn was a sleepless night.

She tossed the paperwork away. It floated and fell all around her like a sudden spell of very large, very rectangular snowflakes.

She knew what to do, actually.

But she did not have the heart to do it.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

Yet, Scorpia decided she also did not have the heart to let Catra ruin her own life. With her own two hands.

Friends stand up to each other.

So it was that Scorpia, Force Captain, entered the wild and dangerous entrails of Entrapta's lair. She did not bother to knock, not after the doorbell had been turned into a blood scanner.

"Entrapta," Scorpia called her. No answer, not that she expected one. "Entra- oh, there you are."

The purple-haired Princess was sitting at a desk, sparks flying by as her hair welded together two wriggling pieces of machinery. Entrapta giggled some silly nursery rhyme as her work proceeded.

" _What shall we do with the broken juncture? What shall we do with the broken juncture? What shall we do with the broken juncture?_ _Early in the morning!_ "

She clapped as the machinery stood up.

" _Hooray, up she rises! Hooray, up she raises! Hooray, up she-_ "

"Entrapta!" Scorpia put one of her pincers atop her shoulder.

Entrapta blinked as looked at her, taking off her mask.

"Uh? Hi! What are you doing up so early? Are you sick? Can I take your blood pressure?"

"No! Uh-not now, I mean. I have to speak to you."

The shadow of disappointment passed over Entrapta's face for a moment, but she quickly batted it away. She twirled in her chair and stood up to look at Scorpia with keen interest in her red eyes.

"It's about Catra."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just can't avoid tormenting you. And Catra can't avoid tormenting herself. Next time, Scorpia will take an important decision. And we might get a hint or two about what's happening. Maybe we will even meet a certain important someone. As I said: not an AU, Adora is not brainwashed, and there's not a clone around (I dislike clones as they tend to make so many inside jokes).   
> Though some of you got dangerously close, the truth of the matter is still (thankfully) undiscovered.
> 
> Ready for the plucking.
> 
> Thank you for your support, if you liked this story, or you like being tormented by me, please leave a comment! Hugs!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, that thing  
> they warn you about.  
> Never to wish for  
> every single thing   
> your heart desires, as   
> it might get to you.

A new day comes. It is a day dedicated to belly rubs and ice cream, and it is an exceedingly good day.

Even the best Force Admiral in the Horde needs some time to relax, after all.

These days, Hordak himself seems to recognize her talent. His annoying meetings have slowly disappeared. Catra has a lot more time to spend with Adora, this way. Is she going to complain?

"Hhhrm," she groans as Adora's hand passes all over her tummy, giving her another of her patented belly scratches.

Adora gives the best belly scratches in the world, really.

All things considered, she's probably not going to complain.

"I like lemon," Adora says as she scoops up yet another ice cream spoonful. "It's not that sweet, yet you seem to never tire of it." She winks. "Reminds me of someone who I know."

"Disrespect towards a superior is punishable in the Horde, Force Captain," Catra reminds her. But she does get one scoop of her own. Chocolate and cherry is her favourite. The darker the chocolate, the larger the cherry, the better. "I think the punishment is being forced to give out belly rubs for one thousand year, or something. Cannot recall the tactical manual right now... for some reason."

Adora's eyes twinkle.

"Can you, Admiral? Because I would not mind giving you belly scratches for a long... long time, actually."

Catra blushes. These days, Adora is so bold. She's always been, actually. One of the things she has always admired of her, really. But she's being... bolder.

Catra has yet to decide if she likes this change... or if she likes it _a lot_.

"Hey, Adora." Catra says in the end.

She squirms as her favourite person in the whole, wide world - not that she has much competition - scoots closer and hugs her.

Then Adora tackles her, and Catra is taken by surprise and lets out a - commanding! - squeal as Adora makes the two of them tumble on the floor. Adora laughs as they stop against a wall. Adora is panting, and laughing, and she's just so beautiful that Catra's breath dies in her throat.

Her heart beating like the engine of a tank, Catra lifts a hand to brush a blonde lock away from her forehead.

Adora smiles. What was Catra thinking about? Adora smiling tends to have this effect on her nowadays. Sort of everything gets blank... and Catra cannot speak.

 Adora is still dressed in her white and red and grey clothes, the ones she always uses. As long as white is just a hint on her, she can actually... it's good on her. That's all.

"I was thinking..." Catra begins, but then she stops the next moment.

Adora is looking at her with wide blue eyes, a serene, devoted smile upon her face. This is what she had always wanted, is it not?

Her hands upon Catra's, the warmth of her body next to her own. This is her harbour. Her refuge.

"You were thinking?"

"Nothing," Catra scoffs, "it's nothing... just come here. I want a hug."

"You're getting soft, Force Admiral," Adora sing-songs in her ear, but Catra just lets herself be hugged, and she hugs Adora back. For a single, glorious moment, everything is perfect. Adora is here.

For a single, perfect moment, Catra is whole.

For a moment.

"Well, don't let the others know about it," Catra quips.

"Your secret is safe with me, Admiral. You can trust me."

"I know."

Making sure Adora cannot see her, Catra bites her lips.

Hard.

 

 

Scorpia shook her head as Entrapta surveyed the scene.

She felt a bit... dirty was not the right word. She felt... a little bit like a Princess. Nosy and with little concern for the good of others, all talk and no substance. She did not like to intrude in Catra's life. Especially, when... when... she was like this.

Next to her, Entrapta did not seem to share her qualms.

"So," Scorpia said, nudging her - she was a bit nervous, good manners could be excused. "What do you make of it?"

Entrapta did not answer immediately. Scorpia lowered her gaze, and found out Entrapta was shaking.

And in that moment, Scorpia knew she had lost her.

"This... oh, this... this is _huge_." Scorpia expected one of her manic laughs, but the renegade Princess just wrung her hands together as her twin tails held her up. Entrapta's voice was low, full of surprise and... was that almost reverence? For a person who jumped and cackled at the thought of blowing up the planet, Entrapta seemed to have found something even her found... sacred? "I _have_ to study this."

Maybe sacred was not the right word. Too interesting to pass up?

Damn, she needed Entrapta's help, not her opposition!

"Entrapta, I know, and I know you'd like to, but Catra is there, and she needs our help, and we have to give it to her."

 "But that would... disturb our observations! I cannot allow you to this! This is something that has never... never happened before! I need to... the implications... just think of the _implications_!"

Scorpia did something she did not like to do. She stood up, using her own stature and build to shadow Entrapta. She leaned forward, encompassing her completely.

Intimidation was not her forte, actually, she thought it was a bully tactic and, while on the field it has its uses, using it with a friend felt... dirty. But this whole situation was dirty, dirtier than mud.

"Entrapta! Are you really going to leave our best friend like that just to... to _observe_ some stuff?"

Entrapta opened her mouth to yell a loud _yes_ , but then something happened.

In her red eyes shone the light of doubt.

Doubts grew to uncertainty.

Entrapta gripped one of her twintails in her hand, twirling it, nervous.

Scorpia pushed on.

"I know this is interesting to you, but think of Catra! Do you really want to... I mean, _look_ at her!"

Entrapta did.

She slowly shook her head.

"But I _can_ monitor her in the time we need to get help, can't I?"

Scorpia rolled her eyes up, but she knew she had to do some concessions here and there, or the Princess would try to block her every step.

"... fine." Scorpia said at last. "But do it fast! We need to get help, and Hordak cannot come to know what's happening, or he will have both our heads!"

Entrapta laughed, too ecstatic to worry about Scorpia's warning.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Hahahaha! Yes! This is... this is the best thing ever! This is going to be my greatest triumph!"

"All well and good, but..." Scorpia began to follow Entrapta around as she began to tinker with her machinery, still between bouts of mad laughter. "Entrapta." She still ignored her, muttering something under her breath. "Entrapta! Can you deal with it?"

Entrapta froze.

"You... you are really asking me to destroy such... such a..."

"I am asking you to help _our friend_!"

Entrapta huffed. She tapped her finger on her chin as silence stretched across them.

"... I can _try_. I wouldn't be the one to go in, though. At the stage things are now... the possibility of a... merging are high." She blinked. "That's... absolutely fascinating, by the way? Can I put one of the cadets inside? The disposable one, with blonde hair!"

"No!" Scorpia was getting really fed up with this. It was as if out of everyone in the Horde, she was the only one still willing to help Catra. "Then what? A probe?"

"I am not jeopardizing Emily!"

"I am not asking you to! Modify some other machine..."

"All of Emily's sisters and brothers are precious to her!"

"Then what?"

"A probe would not work anyway. This is Catra we are speaking about. The pressure... it just would be too much. Like a tin can at the bottom of the ocean." Entrapta squeezed a piece of equipment between her twintails, crunching it to a crumpled mess. "Like that. But faster. And a lot, uh... messier."

Scorpia brushed her pincers together. A probe was out, Entrapta was out...

"Then _what_?"

"Now that Catra is at this stage, observation is barely possible, interaction is extremely dangerous. Only someone with a _formidable_ willpower could withstand the nootic pressure. Everyone else would just..." she waved the crumpled piece of equipment. "Just like that. _Crunch_."

Scorpia took a step forward. Every moment her friend was lost like that...

"I am doing it. I am going in."

"No, you won't," Entrapta replied, coiling her twintails around her arm.

"What? Why?"

"You have no tether. No lifeline. How long have you known Catra?"

"I... uh... it has been thirteen quite intense weeks."

"See? To Catra you are far too new. No memory anchor. _Crunch_."

Scorpia collected all the hints. So...

"We need someone that has known Catra for a long time... and with formidable willpower. Are those the requirements?"

"Yes," Entrapta vigorously nodded.

"And I believe Shadow Weaver would not be the right candidate," Scorpia winced.

"Not sure. By a scientific standpoint, it would be _fascinating_ to see her react to the nootic pressure. I doubt she would get crushed soon, but the sheer strength of Catra's hate would topple her sooner or later. She could end up squished in all kind of entrancing shapes! We could learn so much... where do we keep Shadow Weaver again?" Entrapta jumped up and down with delight.

"Never mind," Scorpia dismissed the thought. No Shadow Weaver.

But that left...

The candidates could literally be counted atop one pincer.

"Oh, skittering pedipalps," Scorpia concluded.

 

 

Given she did not have that much time, Scorpia decided for the fastest solution.

The fastest solution would be to make one hell of a ruckus.

The Whispering Wood had been left half-dead from the last assault, so it was quite easy for her to reach one of the nearby villages, a village that could clearly be seen from Bright Moon.

The rest was doing what Scorpia did best.

Hey, if Catra had not been in that situation, it might have even been fun.

Twenty minutes after Scorpia launched herself off the flying scooter, she lay in the middle of the square, holding five people hostage, and the friends of the Princesses had all arrived.

All save the one she needed!

The one with the bow - uh, was his name 'Bow'? That was a curious coincidence - trained his weapon at her, ready to shoot an arrow. The other, the one who tried to make a fool of her and pass for an inspector held a harmless-looking flaming bottle in his left harm. Next to him the mermaid Princess stood with a trident in her hands, but Scorpia, who had by now developed a sense for these things, had chosen a village with not much nearby water. She was useless.

"Bring me your leader," Scorpia said as she threateningly snapped her pincers.

From between the houses stepped in a short, purple-haired girl.

"Hey! You're with the Evil Horde! What are you doing here?!"

Scorpia scoffed, tossing one of the hostages away, just to calm herself down. Seriously, the nerve! She did not have much time!

"I said your _leader_ ," she repeated.

The purple-haired Princess scowled, her mouth opened as an overture to what appeared to be the mother to all outraged replies, when a white and golden light echoed all around.

From the bushes walked in a tall, imposing figure, holding a sword.

"Took your sweet time," Scorpia said.

In front of her, a frown upon her face, as steadfast and as dazzling as ever in her white garb, golden hair flowing in an unseen wind, stood She-Ra.

 

 

All is silent, and the night is warm.

Catra Adora in the blankets holds.

She has deluded herself, she thought the storm gone.

Adora lets out a content breath.

Catra holds her even closer.

Her smell is so good, her hair so soft.

Her body so warm, her heart beats so true.

"Please don't let it end," Catra whispers in the dark.

"Please don't let it end," she repeats to no one.

"I will do anything," she assures the emptiness.

The storm all around her thunders.

And the night is cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found out I simply love to write Scorpia. I imagine a crab, and I turn feelings, loyalty and fellowship up to eleven. Also, as you can see, with this chapter... we did not really get a clear answer, but you might have by now all the elements necessary to begin tracing your map.   
> I am going to answer all your comment soon! I usually do it immediately but many of you came so close that I did not want to give anything away by writing 'hahaha, so clever, 9/10, so close, it was actually an Adora-shaped body snatcher!*'. I will answer them soon, just to let you know how much I appreciated them.   
> Really, this story is doing great. Better than my LWA one, you know, the one I am actually putting some effort into.  
> Life is cruel.
> 
> Also, I like get experimental with writing. You might have noticed. This is the reason I have few friends.   
> I like this fic also because it allows me to use varios techniques to display different states of mind. Also first time I used 'jeopardizing' in a fic. Quite the proud moment.  
> One final note: the length of this update is 2048 words, which is 2^11. I found this satisfying in a cosmic manner. Overall this update is very comfy to me.   
> For you, instead, who do not know how this tale is going to end... I tried to make it as evil as possible. Please direct your delightes thoughts to the comment section. Pitchforks to the left, torches to the right. Thank you.
> 
> I really am looking forward to your new and updated theories. If you have one make sure to write it now, as with chapter four we will really begin to know what's going on. The words 'nootic pressure' should give you a big hint, though!  
> In the end you will know the reason behind all these cats and circles...
> 
> ____________
> 
> * It's not a body-snatecher, not even an Adora-shaped one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams and seracs.

It all began when Catra entered Entrapta's lair.

Catra's eyes widened at the scene in front of her.

 _Great_ , she though. _Now I have to deal with not one but two Princess Autismo_.

"Hey Catra," said the first Entrapta, turning to greet her. The second one repeated the greeting like an echo. "Hey Catra."

"Will you please explain this in a way that will not give me brain damage?"

The first Entrapta chuckled, swinging on her twin-tails. The other one stood silent, a gentle smile upon her lips. She did not seem to know what to do.

Uh? That was curious.

"I wanted to show you my latest breakthrough."

"This... mechanical doll? Was Emily not enough?" Catra poked at the second Entrapta's shoulder. It was warm and soft just like she had expected. So, uh, maybe not a doll? Not a robot? What was this?

"Emily is special! And that's not a doll! That's a para-realistic nootic construct."

Catra sighed.

"Brain damage incoming. Please keep it simple, Entrapta. Some of us skipped through Force Captain class."

"I will try! So, this here it's not me. Well, it is me, but not the me that is standing here! In fact, you are _inside_ me."

Catra looked for a chair.

"I need to sit down."

"There," Entrapta snapped her fingers, and a chair appeared right next to Catra.

"Uh... since when can you materialize stuff?"

"Since you are in my head," Entrapta said tapping on her temple.

Catra blinked. She looked down at her hands. Still had five fingers, still had all her limbs, no strange experiment seemed to have taken place. She was still Force Admiral.

"I am kinda lost. Please start over from scratch."

"Very well! Hope I can keep it simpler this time! I managed to salvage a part of that First One databank your brought me."

Ah, yes. The one good thing to come out of her debacle with Adora.

Then again, she was now over Adora, was she not?

It was a good thing, was it not?

Who needed Adora?

"Uh, Catra, can you please...?"

" _What_?"

"Can you please calm down?"

Catra blinked and understood what Entrapta meant. All around her, the laboratory was now broken. Shattered fragments of machinery floated in a halo around her, sparkling as flames erupted from their broken components.

"What's... what's this?"

The fragments fell down. Entrapta raised a hand, and reality came back to the usual state. The other Entrampta, the construct, or whatever it was, seemed to fade away for a moment.

"Word, your nootic potential is incredible, Catra! I really ought to stud-"

"One thing at a time. The databank. We were speaking about the databank."

"Ah, yes. Thank you for reminding me. I get so excited! So, I found the thing, though broken, was still capable of creating a three-branes self-folding, holographic world, in accordance to the conservation of information principles! I just needed to fold two N-branes into each other, an-"

Catra lifted a hand, stopping her. Technical details could wait.

"So, are we in an illusion, or something like that? Can I wish for back scratches and they would magically happen?"

"Not an illusion. This is a para-realistic projection pivoted around my own nootic neural chord. It's kind of like another world, but you are in control, and you decide how it ends."

"A dream. Got it. And what about the clone?"

"Not a dream. And she's not a clone. She's not _organic_. She's a self-improving nootic construct. I built her so that she may help with my studies. You guys are great, but when I start to bounce ideas off Scorpia, she just makes a doodle of me and her together. Heartwarming, but not very insightful."

Catra pursed her lips. She was starting to understand.

Or something like that. Entrapta was always hard to follow.

"Okay, so let's see if I got this straight..." she extended three fingers. "One, we're in your head. Two, this First One databank allowed you to create a simulation, like a dream. Three, it's-"

"It's not a simulation. It's _not_ a dream. This is a para-reality. It's like another world. Self-contained, fragile, powered by your own nootic potential. You could call it your willpower."

"Hmmm..." Catra concentrated. She grinned and purred as an invisible hand began to scratch her back. Ah, maybe this was good for something... "Entrapta, on second thought, this is great. Consider yourself my second-favourite Force Captain."

"Yay!"

"So, you think I am great at this nootic stuff?"

Catra _knew_ she was good at a lot of things, but adding one more element to the list was always welcome.

"Nootic potential. Yes. Being able to influence my own nootic projection while you are just a host is particularly notable. I am great at inventing stuff, but my nootic potential is sort of average," Entrapta noticed with a wiry smile, as her double flickered and sparked, seemingly fading away. "It takes a lot of work to create a nootic construct. And I sort of get bored after a while."

Something flickered inside Catra. The spark of an idea. Still undefined, vague, but bright enough to entice her, to draw her in. She slowly walked around the Entrapta construct. Sure, now that she took a good look at it, there were a lot of imperfections. One of the twin-tails was a slightly different colour than the other. Her chest was a bit too large. She was a bit taller than Entrapta herself.

But one could improve on the design...

"Say..." Catra asked, as that idea coiled and grew inside her, a weed that was just then beginning to push its deep dark roots inside her heart, "... can you  tell me more about this device of yours? I'd like to borrow it for a while."

 

 

It was the second time Scorpia entered Bright Moon, and this time it was in a peaceful way.

Well, sort-of peaceful. The chains all around her body, binding her, were not the most welcoming choices of attires.

Still, what could she expect from _Princesses_?

Skittering pedipalps, she could only hope they would really listen to her.

These chains _really_ were a little too tight for her own tastes. Maybe they would not listen. Maybe they would not help her rescue Catra, and she would be lost in that horrible machine, lost inside her own head...

"Speak," said the She-Ra.

Scorpia had seen Adora at the ball for the first time. Back then, the girl had seemed unassuming. She lacked any of the powers Princesses possessed, as well as Entrapta's genius, or Catra's own strength and grace. Truly, she could see her as a good, honest Force Captain. In another life they could have been friends, and that was a saddening thought.

The She-Ra had sheathed her sword, and now looked like the Adora of hold. As she sat in her chair, Scorpia noticed her shifting her back, like to shake off an itch there. Odd.

"Ah, yes, that would be my cue. I..." Uh, wait. She had not really prepared a speech. Her forte was mostly smashing into things, standing atop boats, and drawing friendship doodles.

How did one _smash_ into a conversation?

"I think I need your help," Scorpia said in the end.

"We will _never_ help a member of the Evil Horde," the purple-haired girl exclaimed. What was her name again? Flutter, Glitter... something like that.

Glubber?

"Wait, Glimmer," the She-Ra said, interrupting her.

Ah, yes, Glimmer.

"I want to see this through." The She-Ra leaned back against the chair, but hissed and recoiled, grimacing. Maybe she had backpain? She ought to do her stretchies in the morning. Maybe Scorpia could show her a stretching routine in exchange for her help? Not much, but as a sign she meant well!

"It's about Catra."

If Scorpia had hoped her Force Admiral's name would ease her task, it had the opposite effect. Silence gripped the room. Catra had after all led the final attack against Bright Moon. Upon the She-Ra's face a shadow passed. Her blue eyes shifted left and right.

The She-Ra pursed her lips. She seemed conflicted, and deep in thought.

"What about Catra?" She asked at last.

 

Catra was not sure she understood every detail of Entrapta's device. It did not interest her, really. Still, it was somewhat cute to the see the purple-haired Princess get all worked up in her little mechanical word. Catra always liked _passionate_ people, and Entrapta surely could get excited, lost in all her scientific jargon.

That was one of the reasons she liked her, though she would not be caught dead admitting she _liked_ Princess Autismo. Com on. She had an _image_ to protect.

Catra paced back and forth inside the device. She had expected a small thing, a tiny trinket, but actually it turns out you can't contain a self-sustaining universe without some sort of infrastructure.

All around Catra stretched a wide chrome dome, a circle of machinery, blinking lights and other devices that Entrapta had either enhanced or built from scratch. At the top of the dome, the shards of the First One device blinked in a crimson color, like a polar star grown bloated and feverish.

Catra concentrated. Using this nootic stuff was not much different from focusing completely on something, she had discovered. The world outside kept on trying to distract her, with its shapes, smells, sounds. Maybe that was the reason one needed absolute willpower.

She focused on... on... on rage.

Without even noticing it, she balled her fists, her sharp nails biting into her palms.

It did not matter.

She breathed through her nose.

Catra drew thin threads of pain from her heart. They seemingly danced in front of her, red, glowing and burning. She took her mind's eyes in her hand like a needle, and from those threads she began to trace a figure.

A tall girl, almost a woman now, really. Blonde hair, in a ponytail. A pair of blue eyes. A white undershirt, red jacket.

She was strong, and yet feminine, curves fighting with musculature to decide the theme of her body.

In the end striking a balance.

And the memories.

The memories.

Catra perceived them as blinking stars of light. Some of them blue and freezing, others golden and warm, and yet others red-hot, pulsating.

A few an ill purple color.

The feeling of her talons cutting through She-Ra's clothes, biting down into her skin, her muscles, spilling fuming blood, as if she was writing the name of Adora's own betrayal on her own back. That was purple.

All of those memories, together.

And more.

Catra had a blood transfusion, once. Nothing serious. Just some Shadow Weaver stuff.

But she remembered distinctly the flow of blood leaving her body, its gentle draw as it lulled her to sleep. The same feeling, now, but it was as if her own _soul_ was slowly, gently, being ripped away from her.

For a moment Catra felt like being shredded, just out of pressure, like the engine of an overheating tank.

 _No_!

Catra recoiled. The void would not have her.

Not now, not ever.

She gathered herself together.

She was _Catra_.

Force Admiral of the Horde.

She was stronger than this.

And when Catra opened her eyes, in front of her stood Adora.

Panting, Catra took a step forward, drying sweat from her brow.

"Whoa," she said, walking around the simulacrum, "it looks just like the real thing!"

"Amazing! That was absolutely amazing!"

On the one hand, being disturbed was not high on Catra's priority's list. On the other hand, being praised for a work well done...

"You have two minutes, Entrapta," Catra admonished her. She blinked. "Wait. _How_ did you enter here?"

"I walked in!"

The Princess pointed at the dome with the tip of her hair.

"This place has been just built! It's still fresh and it has no defenses."

"No defenses, uh..." Catra scratched her chin. No defenses was not a good thing. Something to think about later on. For now, though... she came back to walk around the simulacrum.

"Why the smug face on this doll?" She asked Entrapta.

"Don't ask me! You made it! Oh, it is something beyond all description... you managed to fold the p-branes into a para-realistic construct with the smallest effort! It used to take me _hours_ to visualize my own assistant."

"Yeah, well I'm not really going to use her as my... _assistant_ ," Catra mumbled under her breath. She slithered in closer to Adora.

It really looked like Adora.

It smelled like Adora, just the way she remembered.

It breathed like Adora.

It dressed like Adora.

It even had her stupid smug smile on her face, the smug smile that made Catra want to... want to...

"Uh?" Entrapta seemed taken aback by Catra's lack of interest in furthering scientific progress. Who could have guessed, really... "But if she's not going to help you in your work, then why did you ask me t-"

"One thing at a time," Catra said. Why was her grin so wide? She set both hands upon fake-Adora'a shoulders.

She did not move.

"This is... just a doll, isn't she? I can just snap my fingers and she would disappear."

"...yes?"

"And it's not like she has... _it_ has any feelings. Right? It's just, how did you put it, a construct?"

"Technically it's a solidified-state para-reality in a subjective, self-looping, nootic-sustained timeline."

"Entrapta, I would really appreciate if you'd put up some subtitles."

"It's... uh.. I already told you! She's a stillborn image of every possible Adora in a wave function of p-brane reality, captured and downloaded in this reality thanks to the stabilizing pivot of your willpower. I really can't make it any simpler!"

"So, it's not _real_."

"No, she's _real_ , it's just she cannot get out of the nootic field, or-"

"Believe me, Entrapta," Catra said as she flicked fake-Adora's nose. "She's _not_ real."

Entrapta scratched her arm with her left twin-tail.

"She may not be _now_ , but as the nootic pressure increases, she's going to learn from you. She's like a sponge, Catra. She's going to grow, she's going to..."

" _I_ decide what to do with it," Catra replied in a whisper. She took out her eyes from the fake Adora to set it against Entrapta.

For the first time ever since she had met her, the Princess recoiled. It was as if something had scared her at last, like the perception of a _threat_ had finally went through her thick skull.

"And it's not _real_. Leave us." A pause. "I man, leave me alone."

"S-sure. I also was wondering when I can start collecting data on..."

"Collecting?"

"Yes! Your hands-on approach is fascinating. I have a few sensors, I can put them on-"

" _Entrapta_." Catra began. A pause. She had to calm down. Rage was not how a true leader displayed her dominance. Rage had been Shadow Weaver's downfall, and it would not be hers. "Entrapta. I do not want you to collect any data on what I am going to do with this... construct."

"What? But, Catra, please! Think of the scientific breakthrough! This is the first time someone like you is able to communicate and interact with such a high-quality para-realistic-"

"I won't repeat myself," Catra said one last time.

"But..."

No reply. There was no need.

Slowly, Entrapta lowered her hand.

She seemed to deflate.

A bit of hardship had never hurt anyone. In fact, it would only do Entrapta good.

Catra knew it had done her a whole lot of good.

"Leave," Catra said, for the last time.

And Entrapta complied.

She exited the circle, and for all intents and purposes, Entrapta stopped existing.

But better be sure. Catra focused on thick, metal walls. Slowly, the chrome dome disappeared. Catra and the doll were now alone, surrounded by an impenetrable barrier.

There. That made her feel a little better.

Catra's tail flicked.

Was she _really_ going to do this? A part of her screamed she'd better stop.

A part of Catra, the small, weak Catra, the one who had suffered untold abuse, the one who would turn crying in a well-lit corner of the room until her tears dried and she could face Adora once again, wanted to stop.

Catra's smile faltered. It grew, it deformed, turning feral, ill, a wicked thing of knives and thorns.

Her mismatched eyes turned into feverish lights as she put both hands on Adora's cheeks.

"You k-know," she panted. Oh, this was it. This was it.

She felt it.

The jolt of pure and white-hot hate, rising like lava from the fiery pit, about to finally erupt and cover her completely.

"You know," she whispered, sweetly, at the ear of the construct. "After your betrayal... after you left me _alone_..."

_It has no feelings._

_It's not even real_.

"I have wanted to do this this for a long, long time."

Catra hugged the fake-Adora. Her hands slithered under her jacket, under her shirt.

Touched the warm, smooth, perfect skin. No claw signs on her back.

For now.

Catra chuckled.

 _It has no feelings_.

"I loved the way you shrieked. You know, when I cut your back with my talons. I can't wait... I can't wait!"

And then Catra laughed, and the laugh crashed into a cackle, and the cackle into a shriek, and at long last, Catra began her long-overdue work.

 

 

Adora scratched her head. What a day. First Scorpia, of all people, ambushed a villain and wanted to speak with 'their leader'. At first she thought Angella would be the right person, but for some reason Scorpia wanted to speak with _her_.

Sure, this She-Ra thing might have assured them a victory, but... _leader_?

That was... uh... a bit of a stretch.

And this stuff with Catra...

"Let's go over this once again," Adora said, setting her hands together. Seventh time is the charm. "The Horde has built a... laboratory. And this laboratory has allowed Catra to create a... personal world?"

Scorpia nodded.

"Yes."

"And she's lost in this... personal world of hers. And it's not healthy.

Scorpia vigorously shook her head.

Adora could agree.

"And you want me to take her back? Because nobody else can. Because whoever might try to would..."

Scorpia hit one of her pincers with the other, drawing an echo that danced around the room.

" _Crunch_."

Adora sighed.

"Come on... you are not actually asking... you are not..."

Then again, what was she supposed to do? Leave Catra to her own doom?

But it had been all her own doing!

Adora frowned.

She _had_ given Catra a chance, repeatedly.

Catra had rebuked it every time.

 _You must let go_ , a disembodied echo seemed to speak to her ear.

Was that a memory, or... the Sword?

It had refused to work properly until she had... let go.

Now Scorpia was asking Adora to come and rescue her?

The scars on Adora's back pulsed.

Thin parallel lines of pain, pain atop sorrow.

What good would it do to her, to the _Rebellion_ , if she decided to help Catra?

What would happen to their _morale_?

It was her responsibility not to help Catra.

She really, really had no choice.

The Sword seemed to sing to her once more: _you must let go._

And the Sword was right.

Light Hope was right.

She-Ra would help all of Etheria.

All of them, save for the Horde.

"Scorpia." Adora stood up, the Sword in her hand. She pointed it at her. "You came here on behalf of your superior, and thus we are going to consider it a... diplomatic mission, if unorthodox."

"What are you saying?" Scorpia shook her head. "What are you _saying?"_

"But Catra has chosen her path, and I can't do anything to help her. You have half an hour to leave Bright Moon."

"She's in _danger_!" Scorpia blurted out. "You were her _friend_!"

Adora crossed her arms.

She could not show weakness.

"Maybe I used to be," she replied.

 

 

Catra blinks. Someone is standing in front of her, blocking out her sunlight.

"Whoever you are, keep walking," she mutters under her breath.

"Come on," Adora replies, moving her fingers behind her ear. "I thought I had special clearing? When it comes to you? Hm, Force _Admiral_?"

Catra purrs. She just cannot help it.

Adora has a way with words... and with fingers... she just cannot refuse her anything.

But she's not going to forget her pride.

She turns towards her Force Captain, looking at her with a scowl... oh, would you look at that. Adora has unbuttoned her jacket.

Oh, would you look at that.

What a curious sight.

Very, uh. Peculiar.

"Did I get your tongue, Force Admiral?" Adora gets even closer, she's encompassing Catra, now. "I saw you sleeping, so peaceful, so open to a surprise attack... you are really setting a bad example."

Adora's arms are around her shoulder, now, her neck.

Why are her eyes so blue today?

Catra has not noticed that before.

"I... uh..."

And why is she stammering now?

It must be the heat.

The day's heat.

Adora's heat.

Adora is close.

Huh, closer.

"A very bad example, Force Admiral. Someone could take advantage of you..." Adora's lips move next to her ear. She's so close, she could probably lick it.

Why is she thinking about this?

"Maybe I will help myself."

Catra does not answer.

Something seizes her.

She's been in a pretty dark place as of late.

Pictures, memories... she does not want to think about.

Regrets.

Catra hugs Adora. She sets her head atop Adora's neck. In part because it's cute, and in part because this way Adora cannot see her face.

Catra's hand slither under her jacket, under her shirt.

Adora's skin is warm, smooth and perfect.

No sign of claws.

Not on her back.

And on her arms.

And on her legs.

And o-on on her fa-

"Hey. Catra. Catra." Adora's voice makes her snap out of it. "Hey. What's up?"

Catra takes one long breath.

"Nothing. I just... I just needed a hug."

A pause.

"You can get all the hugs you want."

Catra nods.

"You will probably get even more. I have a secret reserve of sneaky hugs, just for my Force Admiral."

Catra chuckles.

She's just too good. Too much. Too pure.

Too good for her...

"You know I would never hurt you," Catra blurts out.

It's a prayer.

Adora hugs her a little stronger.

"I _know_. I know you would never hurt me. Never ever."

"Never... ever...?" Catra replies.

"Of course not. Not you."

"Heh, right," Catra says. "You're right. Not me."

She crumples like a leaf in winter. Catra falls against Adora.

"I'm sorry!" She bawls in her arms. "I'm sorry! I did not want to hurt you! I did not... I don't know what... I was angry and stupid! I'm sorry! Please..."

"Catra." Adora holds her against her own body. "Catra. It's okay. You are here with me now. Whatever you did does not matter anymore. You're here. You're here with me."

And Catra is.

Still, it takes a few minute for her to recover. By then, she has stopped crying, and she can come back to chide herself for showing such dumb weakness in front of her own Force Captain.

"I did some pretty stupid stuff," she confesses at last.

"Like that time you had Entrapta build you that Belly-Rubber-Superautomatic-3000?"

Catra chuckles. Adora really is a constant ray of light in her thunderous life.

What would she do without her?

"Yes, like that time. Maybe even stupider. Just... thank you. For sticking with me. Adora."

Adora laughs. She withdraws for a moment, cups her face in her hands, and kisses her.

"Hey, Force Admiral," Adora replies. "I would not leave you for anything in the world."

 

 

All was silent in Bright Moon.

Night had fallen to preserve the sleep of the just.

The intruder who had disturbed the peace that day already forgotten. Scorpia was back from whence she came. Peace had been preserved, She-Ra's work done.

The Horde, whatever it was trying, had not managed to bring further misfortune onto the Rebellion.

All was silent in Bright Moon, except for the black-hooded figure jumping and skipping as it ran away from the castle.

If one had good eyes, he might have seen the figure running, all alone, at times a flash of blue would have revealed she had a weapon with her. Maybe a spear, or a sword.

And that she was running in the direction of the Fright Zone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama is coming. Adora to the rescue!
> 
> Hope this chapter helped to clarify something. Many of you these past few days threw some interesting theories around. You came pretty close. Though it's not like Catra is 'lost' somewhere or there's clones around, is just that she's inside a hyper-collapsing bubble of reality, sustained by her own willpower.   
> I really like Catra's interaction with Entrapta here. I tried to convey Entrapta is a lot... out there, and difficult for Catra to handle, but she likes her and allows her to explain stuff, even though details may elude her. There's respect, though Catra tries to hide it behind scoff and belittling Entrapta.  
> I also loved inventing Entrapta's sciency-jargon. By the way, the holographic principle and branes are actual parts of cosmological models. I also find the word 'brane' extremely satisfying, for some reason. I wanted to use it.
> 
> Really hope Catra does not snap. At least not before Adora comes and rescue her. That would be wasteful. Crossing my fingers here.  
> Who knows if Catra wants to be rescued though? This is going to be interesting to see...
> 
> Thank you once again for supporting this story! I will answer your comments and theories in a few hours, giving time to the story to breathe. See you next time, as Adora tries to enter Catra's mind. Will she find a way in?  
> And... what about a way out...?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Knowledge and life.  
> I had seen it all, except for one thing.  
> Unique.  
> Immense.  
> Unreacheable."
> 
> Leonard Vertighel
    
    
    Adora couldn't say she missed the smell of the Fright Zone. Oil, machinery and smoke. The scent of tyranny. But she couldn't help it, the smell brought back memories. A simpler life, when she knew what was wrong and what was right.
    In a way, she did come back to such a morally simple world.
    If it wasn't for those stupid sentiments related to Catra's wellbeing, she might have been still in Bright Moon, sleeping like a log, her heart and conscience as lights as the feathers of her pillow.
    
    And now look at her: trying to sneak once more inside the base, after the fiasco of a couple of months before, and her back still hurt.
    Entrapta... Adora bit her nail at the thought. She had not know the tech Princess for long. She could be a bother, and Adora was not really interested in her delirium. But she might have been an asset and... after all, it had been her fault, had it not?
    
    It still burned.
    Adora sighed.
    Bad choice of words.
    She had to stay _focused_. The Sword had decided not to help in this edeavour, it seemed. Ever since she had decided to actually go and help Catra, the Sword had seemingly retreated back once more into its own, refusing to activate.
    Refusing her.
    So be it. She did not need the Sword to save Catra.
    Though there might be complications. Scorpia had not been the clearest explainer – cute doodles helped only up to a point – and Adora had to admit she was not the greatest at dealing with technology either. The most complicated things she had ever manouvered on her own, without the use of the Sword, had been her old toaster. 
    
    Then again this First Ones stuff was pretty much indistinguishable from magic, was it not? Maybe she would find a way to power through due to be a good guy or something like that.
    A bit of luck would be a good place to start. Come on! She was the good guy. Was she not supposed to stumble on a pair of guards speaking about Catra's machine, casually dropping hints about its location?
    Or something like that. But there was nobody around.
    The Fright Zone seemed unusually quiet tonight. The omnipresent glow seemed somehow fainter, the quiet hum of engines an echo of what it sued to be. Maybe Hordak wanted to save energy.
    Adora frowned.
    Wait a minute.
    
    
    
    On second thought, it was obvious. If as Scorpia had said this machine Catra had built used enough energy to power a different universe, it would eat through electric cells quicker than Glimmer could make her mom mad. Slithering inside the main power control pad had been a tad less obvious, but it seemed like the entire Fright Zone was more relaxed than usual. Maybe Hordak was out shopping?
    Adora blinked.
    Scorpia had mentioned Catra was now Force Admiral. And if she was too busy in this universe of hers...
    It did not matter. She just had to focus on the task at hand. Someone was masking the power flows, of course. Imp would notice – and report – anything amiss in a blink. Back when she was a cadet, she could not even attach her own shocker to a socket without a permit.
    Whoever did this was... good. If she had not been a Force Captain and knew the Fright Zone like the palm of her own hand, she would have never noticed the leak. The power loss was addressed to bad cables, overheating conductors an the like. It would be a pain to rebuild the entire infrastructure, deep down into the earth, so for now it had been left like that.
    Clever.
    Maybe it had been Catra's own idea.
    Still... let's see, if the power unbalance had been shifted this way, and that, creating these power vacuums in the basement tubes... it meant that it was located in one of two places.
    The first would be Hordak's own headquarters.
    But she doubted Hordak was behind this. It wasn't his style. And if this was a trap, he would have sent someone else other than Scorpia to try and convince them.
    The other one was in the dungeons.
    All things considered, if one wanted a bit of peace and quiet to set up a parallel universe, it would be the best place.
    Adora bit her lip and nodded. She would check it first.
    The Sword still refused to answer, just like it did in the temple. It really did not want her to help Catra.
    Whatever.
    She would do this on her own.
    
    
    Now, one cannot expect Entrapta, of all people, to hinder scentific progress. It was as if the universe had picked up a particular individual to experience itself from the inside, and there was no force, on this planet or others, that could quell Entrapta's crusade for knowledge. Not for long.
    Catra's threats had lasted long enough.
    At twelve minutes, it had been a new record.
    On the thirteen minute, Enrapta had shrugged and began to tinker with her machinery. She _had_ to know. Catra had just shown herself to be exceedingly apt at controlling the para-reality, shaping it after her own desires. And now, Catra would be alone in such an environment, free to influence it!
    Entrapta could not have asked for a better situation to see how her behaviour models compared with reality, albeit one under personal bias.
    Still, the moment she tried to interface herself with Catra's inner universe, her probe was suddenly subjected to unstable, shaking nootic pressure. The p-brane probe seemed to squeal in pain and shock as it was subjected to increasing damage. With a final red _blip_ of light on Entrapta's screen, it disappeared, lasting not longer than a tin box strapped to a one-way ticket for the chromosphere.
    Hm.
    This was a problem.
    This was a challenge.
    This was exciting!
    Entrapta giggled as she cracked her knuckles. 
    Catra has already begun to put up solid defenses. Entrapta could not perceive what was happening from the outside, lest she subjected herself to the nootic pressure. But if her models were correct – and a quick model of her own models would have proven as much – she could have still managed to resist the nootic pressure, in person, for six days, five hours and fifty-three minutes, at the rate of growth.
    Scorpia could have managed far longer. It must be the power of her doodles, but she seemed largely immune to nootic pressure, at least up to a point.
    All in all, she had time. Time to perfect her probes. Time to throw them against Catra's defenses, time to collect data, even in person.
    What would Catra do now that she could interact with a para-realistic nootic construct? She couldn't wait to see!
    Cackling with renewed faith in the power of science, Enrapta began to draw new models. New ideas for probes. New predictions on what would have happened when the nootic construct, having been fed by the power of Catra's nootic field, would begin to act with more and more complex behaviour...
    
    
    So, turns out that escaping from a dungeon is hard enough, but trying to enter one is if possible even harder.
    Adora had to walk in shadows, making sure the various cameras and the few guards she met did not look her way. It was complicated by her wincing every time she curved her back this way and that. 
    All in all, though, it was supposed to be almost impossible for her to reach this point. She would have been noticed.
    It was as if someone was trying to allow her to reach Catra.
    This looked more and more like a trap.
    And still, Adora proceeded forward, following the heat map she had picked up in the armory. Energy leaking peaked right behind this corner. 
    Whatever was sucking on the Fright Zone's energies like a toddler on a pacifier waited for her.
    Adora licked her lips. All this was... it was not Catra's doing, for sure.
    If the plan had come from Hordak, it would have been streamlined, efficient, and it would have involved compious amounts of pain. Catra's own plans were much more emotionally manipulative than his own.
    Shadow Weaver? But as far she knew, the old sorceress was out of commission...
    But this did reek of a trap.
    Cautios, Adora skipped from blind spot to blind spot, and at last she turned the corner.
    
    
    Entrapta reached for her recorder. She hit play.
    “Week three, day four of p-brane experiment.” That sounded good. She still had to decide on a name for her little experiment. The scientific method might be dry and unforgiving at times, but she liked to put a little of flair on things. She petted Emily, next to her. “The subject, Catra, has entered stabilization phase. The nootic construct grew past phase four of self-sustaining loop, starting to predict behavioural patterns instead of just mirroring them. Its programming is beginning to take a life of its own.”
    Emergence.
    Of all the mysteries of the cosmos, the most elusive. How come more and more complex patterns emerged from simple building blocks? A memory of the first time se had stumbled upon this problem reached Entrapta's mind, when she had spent one afternoon calculating in how many patterns she could dispose the box of tiny sweets she had received for her third birthday.
    That time, scientific progress had been slowed down by her sweet tooth, but not now!
    Not now!
    Enrapta produced a minuscule blue pastry from her pocker and gobbled it.
    This time she had _spares_.
    And she would not be denied.
    “Emergence has occurred in that the nootic construct has begun to draw from possible p-branes in order to realize its own onthological history. It's proving its own existence.”
    Entrapta's eyes shone.
    “And subject Catra is absolutely delighted. Behavioural pattern green. Over.”
    
    
    It was not what Adora has expected.
    She remembered this part of the dungeons. A long line of cells, mostly empty. She had been here on cleaning duty three years before, when she and Catra had been caught sparring in the hallway.
    Catra had been sent to Shadow Weaver for her punishment. Adora frowned. She had come back in one peace, though, she did not even seem that much worse for wear. At the time, Adora had just thought Shadow Weaver had mellowed with age.
    Seeing what had actually happened to Catra, all those years...
    Well, she now was here to rectify it, was she not?
    What had been a hallway was now blocked by some kind of... dome structure. It reminded Adora of one of Bright Moon's plates, except turned upside down and with all kind of machinery sticked to it, blinking and pulsating like an ill heart.
    And there was something else.
    Barely noticeable, but the closer she walked to the dome, the closer Adora felt a... vibration in the air. It was like a small, continuous earthquake. Her whole body buzzed and trembled as she walked to three paces distance to the dome.
    Adora extended a hand, and it was like she was trying to pass through an invisible rubber wall. The more she pushed, the stronger the pressure would envelope her hand.
    She withdrew her hand, extended the one gripping the Sword.
    “For the Honor of Greyskull!” She cried out.
    The echoes of her words died in the corners of the room, eaten by the shimmering pressure.
    No help would come from the Sword.
    Whatever.
    A little _pressure_ would not stop her.
    Adora advanced. She only had to put one foot in front of the other. It was simple.
    Her back hurt.
    Covering her face with her hands, Adora advanced.
    
    
    
    Entrapta stood at about twenty paces away from the chrome dome. The last time she had seen Catra had been three days before. She could not enter the dome anymore. Not without someone to work as a shield. Scorpia could do the job, but she was busy trying to salvage Catra's growing paperwork.
    Entrapta did not mind. The more time she had before Hordak inevitably caught sniff of what happened here and tried to pass all of them through the mincemeater was getting closer and closer, but what's assured destruction in the face of _science_?
    Entrapta licked her lips.
    Yes... what is it?
    Entrapta lifted a hand.
    Her gloved hand moved forward, slowed, and seemed to shimmer, like it was passing through some kind of forcefield.
    Entrapta pushed forward.
    “Ahhh!” She cried out as her hand was crushed under the pressure.
    Entrapta withdrew it at once, her glove trapped in the nootic field.
    Her skin was blistered, reddened and bleeding. Her fingernails were cracked. She esteemed she would have only had three more seconds before her bones were splintered.
    Five seconds before the nootic pressure propagated the p-brane-rewriting to her arm.
    Nine seconds before her nootic pivot short-circuited under the opposition of phase.
    A clever way of saying she would have ended her days as a colorful patch of blood and pulverized tissues on the floor.
    Inside the nootic field, her glove twisted and writhed, before it was _stretched_ in the current phase vector of the nootic field. It seemed to go on forever, bleached and lost.
    Entrapta cupped her mouth with her healthy hand.
    Her twintails activated her recorder.
    “W-week four, day two of p-brane e-experiment,” she said between spasms of pain. “Confirmed n-nootic limit. Cannot breach. Subject Catra u-unreacheable for now.”
    
    
    Adora felt like being squeezed, like there was an invisible, giant hand, and she had slipped right through its fingers. And now those fingers were tightening.
    Her back hurt like hell, twin lines of fire from where Catra's talons had lacerated her muscles, weeks before.
    “Hhhrn,” she groaned as she pushed back against the pressure. She only had to set one foot in front of the other. That was it.
    That was it.
    There was liquid coming out of her eyes.
    Tears?
    But there was something coming out of her ears, too, and her nose, and she did not cry from her ears...
    What... was... happening...?
    Why was she-
    Who
    exac
       tly
    
    thought
    
    
       no
    
    
    
    push
    
    
    
    stay back
    
    
    no
    
    pushed
    
    
    you must let go
    
    bleed
    
           g
       sin
    ri
    
    Adora
    
    bl a  c  k   k    k 
    
    
    Adora!
    
    w     w    w  h i te
    
            
    
    We take care of each other 
    
    
    a     f l a shof g o  l   d
    
    
    and
    
    **red.**  
    
    Under the green light of her condensers, Entrapta guided her probe through the nootic field. She had imagined sending a metal box into the chromosphere, once. It was not that different, in fact. She was having more or less the same success: the image was highly disturbed, and it could flicker and die at any moment. Even by night, having connected her probe to the nootic fields produced by REM phase of every Fright Zone residence as they slept, it was no match for Catra.
    Pity she could not use Scorpia, but she was in Bright Moon at the moment.
    She had less distractions, though. She might have told Scorpia a white lie or two about her probes.
    She would make it up to her.
    Her probe barely managed to power through, and she only had limited time.
    There was little room for failure, or complete honesty.
    But what she saw... it proved to be beyond every hope and fear Enrapta had ever harboured.
    And she did find the name for her experiment, in the end.
    Her greatest breakthrough.
    Catra lay on the shore of a lake. It was autumn, and the fallen trees tinged the shore with every possible colour, shifting and flickering in the probe's vision. Next to her stood the nootic construct. Entrapta had decided to call it *dora as it was a function of the original one. She chuckled at her own clever mathematical inside jokes.
    *dora sat down next to Catra.
    They spoke, but whatever they said only came to the probe as white noise, impossible to hear.
    Then something else happened, something that was so out of scope of Entrapta's behaviour models that it took her a long time to understand what it was.
    *dora put its head in Catra's lap. They stood like that for a long time, talking. Catra seemed to hold the construct closer and closer. She shook and seemed to cry, or maybe it was a laughter, the probe could not discern.
    Slowly, Catra came back from her paroxysm.
    She lifted her head and put a kiss on the construct's lips.
    Entrapta gasped.
    Next to her, Emily peeped, confused at the shock of her mistress and saviour.
    The construct responded in kind. She cupped one of Catra's cheeks and drew her near, kissing her back. Harder, fiercer.
    All around them, the leaves danced.
    Then the construct's hand moved down towards Catra's collar, and whatever it was trying to do was forever lost, as the probe choose that moment to lose its battle against the nootic field and be smashed quite literally out of existence.
    Enrapta did not move. Even as her monitor flickered and cracked, leaving her laboratory dark save for Emily's own green light and the occasional shower of sparks, she did not move.
    Slowly, she slumped down against her twin-tails.
    This was...
    This was... it was... beyond everything.
    Slowly, Entrapta reached for her recorder.
    “W-week six, day three of experiment.”
    Slowly, a smile dawned on her lips.
    She had a memory, when she was little, of playing with robots.She had divided them in pairs, female and male, and seen their patterns of pair-bonding, following what she had gathered from her observation of insects and birds and mammals. She had tried with many different patterns, and never came up with a satisfying solution.
    She remembered her nanny, coming to check up on her, bringing her tiny pastry.
    Entrapta, for the first time in her life, had asked for help in an experiment. She remembered looking up at her.
    _Why can't I make them pair up? What do I do wrong?_
    _Oh, dear,_ her nanny had said as soon as she understood what she was trying to do. _You can't create love in a laboratory._
    A victorious grin appeared on Entrapta's face.
    “Who says so?” She asked. Emily beeped a non-committing sound. “ _Who says so_?” She cackled as the real consequences of what Catra had managed to do appeared in all their blinding glory. “I did it!” She laughed and jumped around and clapped her hands and did a little dance. “I did it! I did it!”
    She spoke victoriously into her recorder.
    “Experiment 'Fragments of Autumn'! Success!”
    Now she only had to wait for the last part of the experiment. She had reached her greatest triumph... but what would happen when the two variables, Adora and *dora clashed together?
    Entrapta rubbed her hands, eager.
    When Adora would come, Entrapta would make sure she found every door open and every lock unlocked. Her path towards Catra would have been as inviting as the sweetest of honey traps.
    
    
    Adora had passed through.
    This was not what she had expected.
    Nothing was like she had expected.
    She thought Catra would have been in pain.
    Bleeding, on the floor.
    Catra sat on a wooden chair, facing a clear deep blue lake.
    Straddled atop her lap was...
    Oh, no.
    Something clattered against the ground. It took Adora a few moments to understand she had dropped the Sword.
    Straddled atop Catra's lap was...
    The vision adjusted her red jacket, buttoning it up. She straigthened her hair.
    Catra's mismatched eyes looked at her with the same shock Adora displayed.
    Not the vision's.
    No, the vision stood up from Catra's lap. She put a quick kiss on Catra's lips, and traced the edge of her cheek with her finger.
    “It will only take me a minute,” she assured.
    Adora could not move.
    Slowly, the apparitiong turned.
    Long, powerful legs. A white shirt.
    A red jacket, displaying the medal of Force Captain on her left breast.
    Blonde hair, caught in a ponytail.
    Blue, glistening eyes.
    And upon that face, a vicious smile. The smile of one who has waited her enemy for long, and has prepared, so that when the enemy comes, it is sure to be crushed.
    The apparition spoke, and Adora's heart fell, because she could not tell apart that voice from her own, the only difference being it dripped with venomous scorn.
    “Hey, Adora.”
    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, Nelly. That has been fun to write! Format like this is a one-time occurrence, but I simply could not pass the chance! I simply love to pour more science jargon on the page, and Entrapta is just so fun to write it shouldn't even be legal. Come on, she's just so precious and perfect. I hope I managed to make her interesting. As for the rest... it was also a lot of fun to play and experiment with font and word position in this chapter. I thought about coming up with some clever metaphors, but in the end I decided to go full Dada and just push through. Those among you who know the name Hermes Trismegistus and Mary the Jew might have found a little easter egg in the scene when Adora breaks through...  
> Also the quote at the beginning is a bit of a reference, but I think two people will ever get it, and one of them it will me.
> 
> And, oh boy. This is going to be a fun confrontation. I don't know when I will be able to work on it as I am in the middle of moving (as I wrote in my notes for my other continuous fic, Those Who Wander). So expect next chapter... whenever.  
> In the meantime, you will have to suffer. I am just evil like that. A bit of an indiscretion though: pay attention to details in this chapter, as a few of them are set up for what will happen much, much later on...
> 
> Thank you for your overwhelming support with this story! See you soon (but not too soon).  
> Sweet dreams. Do not let the nootic bugs bite.

**Author's Note:**

> So... ideas on what's happening? As I said, this is not an AU. It's just that everything is a little more complicated than it may appear. So then what's happening?  
> Because I do know, but I am going to keep the answer for myself, for a while at least. This is the second idea that bit me for a Catradora, and I decided to give it a try. This is a bit more complex than the last time, and is going to be a multi-chapter. Update time... whenever, as I am focusing on my other fic 'Those who Wander'. If you are into fantasy, Witches, slow burn and girls loving girls, you might find something you like.  
> That said... Catra is such a fascinating character. I love to see what makes people tick and this story is the perfect occasion.
> 
> A note: I lost count of how many times I wrote force commander instead of force captain. Please have mercy on me. In the end I decided on Force Admiral for Catra's new role because it sounded cool. I hope you like it.
> 
> Also, in the first draft Scorpia said 'Oh, skittering pedipalps' in her second-last line of dialogue. I decided against it as it seemed to draw tension from the scene, but I am copyrighting it. From now on Scorpia says 'skittering pedipalps'. Thank you for your attention.
> 
> I hope you found this story interesting. If you did please let me know. Cheers and see you next time with (maybe) really seeing what's happening...


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